Cries of The Past
by ImogenSantamaria
Summary: The normally poised woman was cracking and the remnants of her 16 year old self was seeping through the open crevices. Almost in a teasing like fashion, Imogen quirked a taunting brow at her.


**12 years into the future. **

"Rachel," Becky called after her daughter in complete annoyance, as she small blonde took off after the Frisbee. Groaning in frustration, she went after the 6 year old. The high school drama teacher sped up her brisk walk into a full fledged jog. "When did she learn to run so fast," she muttered to herself as took several seconds to catch her breath.

Once she had her ragged breath under control, she quickened her pace until she caught up with her, very much in trouble, second grader. "Rachel Elizabeth!" Becky shouted furiously, her blood was boiling as she watched the little girl striking up a conversation. "You know you're not supposed to talk to stra—-" her voice trailed off immediately, and a blush immediately painted her cheeks. "I-Imogen," Becky muttered in disbelief, as her eyes locked with the radiant chocolate colored ones. More than certain that everyone around them could her heart crashing against her chest, she stared at the older woman.

Wearing her signature smirk, Imogen chuckled lightly, "Hello Becky." The brunette ran absentmindedly ran her fingers through her hair. "She looks just like you."

Before Becky had a chance to respond, her daughter threw her arms around her, "Mommy! She was just telling me about taking pictures….I want to be just like her! I want to be a photogr—- ger" sighing in frustration Rachel's radiant smile felt flat.

"Photographer, honey," Becky offered as she loosely wrapped her arms around her daughter. Her eyes never left Imogen's as she stared in bewilderment. "W-Why… are you…" shaking her head, she couldn't find exactly the words she wished to say.

Imogen's smirk never faltered, it was though she always knew just how to get under the squirming blonde. Old habits die hard, or at least that was the motto Becky had always lived by, especially concerning Imogen Moreno. The normally poised woman was cracking and the remnants of her 16 year old self was seeping through the open crevices. Almost in a teasing like fashion, Imogen quirked a taunting brow at her.

"I got word that Adam was finally getting hitched," she hesitated for a moment, almost as though she was trying to get a rise from the blonde. When Becky refused to give an inch, she finally continued. "And I wouldn't miss that for the world."

Nodding feverishly, Becky took a deep breath. "Yeah we're going," she muttered dismissively. "Rach is the flower girl."

Rachel turned around to face Imogen and grinned proudly. "Uh huh! Uncle Adam said I have to put on my big girl dress for it." Furrowing her brows, Becky could have sworn she'd seen the first authentic smile on the older woman's face, but she couldn't be so sure. The moment was fleeting as Rachel continued to spew with excitement. "Daddy is his best man, but he—- he looks like a penguin, not a big boy," the small blonde erupted in laughter which would have ordinarily become contagious. Managing a small laugh, blue orbs locked on with brown ones.

"I'm sure your daddy looks great," Imogen said softly, not hiding the piercing stare that burned into Becky. Though the teacher couldn't make out exactly what was being held behind those eyes. The once warm brown eyes, were now stone cold, and gave away nothing. "I'm going to be taking pictures at the wedding, maybe you can help me out," she shifted her gaze down at the small child and smiled broadly at it. "But only if your mommy and daddy say you can."

Rachel squealed in glee, "Mommy! Can I please take pictures with her?" Turning back to her mother, she patted her legs in excitement.

"Uh… yeah sure." Becky sighed deeply, "You can help Imogen, I don't see why there would be a problem with that."

"Imo—- Imog—" Rachel stuttered, and let out a sigh of complete annoyance. Having just lost her front tooth, nearly everything was impossible for the young girl to pronounce. Her patience was growing thin with everyone and everything.

Imogen grinned, "You can just call me Immy, how's that?" Rachel nodded happily. Though no sound was coming out of her mouth, her lips continuously formed the given nickname. The older woman let out a small chuckle. "I think you've got it."

Glancing down at her watch, the brunette sighed, "Well I have to get going, but I'll see you guys Friday right?" Becky merely offered a small nod. "Great…" Finally showing a morsel of uncertainty, Imogen gnawed at her bottom lip nervously. "It was really good seeing you, BB… um… Becky, It was great seeing you."

Becky's eyes widened in slight shock at the sound of her nickname, that had only ever been reserved for Imogen, rolling so easily off her tongue. She was taken aback for a moment and past reared it's pleasant but also ugly head. "Yeah we'll see you Friday, Imogen. It was lovely to see you."

Without another word, Imogen turned on her heels and headed back towards the direction she'd come. Left dumbfounded, Becky let her eyes follow the woman until her petite figure became nothing more than a small dot. "Immy's nice, mommy," Rachel quipped as she spun around, "And I can be a photogr—opher just like her."

Shutting her eyes tightly, Becky swallowed hard, "Yeah baby, you can be a photographer just like Immy…"


End file.
